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My old vans
by Uriel Tovarmy old shoes
smell like tears
frozen by low lying
clouds fattened
by blood form my finger tips.
from my room
i can see the raindrops fall
from great heights--
hitting the ground
with the strength and power
of a drunkard
tripping over his own
feet.
i hear the thundering crack
of body and rock
splitting up bone
and flesh, mixing up flesh
and dirt, swallowing
warm, useless phlegm 11/11/2005 Author's Note: translation
Posted on 11/12/2005
Copyright © 2024 Uriel Tovar
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Michelle Angelini on 11/14/05 at 03:06 AM Uriel, I would have loved a side-by-side translation Spanish/English. For me words in another language sound more romantic than English. But, I agree with Don. And add my own - your translation has the power of image and evokes emotion because of the imperfect beauty.
~Chelle~ |
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